


Space Between

by SzonKlin



Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SzonKlin/pseuds/SzonKlin
Summary: ***ON HIATUS***“Please don’t go” Toby whispered brokenly. “Please, Adil, I’ll die if you leave.”“Toby, don’t” Adil’s voice was firm. “It’s not fair. You don’t want me to stay out of guilt, do you?”“It’s better than you leaving…”“Don’t you see, Toby? This is exactly why I have to leave.”***His suicide attempt makes Adil realise that he and Toby are not right for each other and moves to America to start a new life. After a horrible breakup and a few months they start to exchange letters to see if they can become friends.





	1. Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic the 40s aren't as bad as they were, legally speaking. While being gay and coloured has more or less the same social implications, consensual gay sex is not illegal and there is no (legal) segregation in the US.
> 
> The fic was partially inspired by this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NalipNz4e3g
> 
> I do not own Halcyon or any of it's characters.

London, February of 1941

“Please don’t go” Toby whispered brokenly. “Please, Adil, I’ll die if you leave.”

“Toby, don’t” Adil’s voice was firm. “It’s not fair. You don’t want me to stay out of guilt, do you?”

“It’s better than you leaving…”

“Don’t you see, Toby? This is exactly why I have to leave” a part of Adil wished he could give in to Toby’ pleading. It would have been so easy to just stay, in their little bubble of happiness. To forget about all their problems, about the blackmail and Adil’s suicide attempt, about the war around them, about the world that condemns their love. But even if they forgot about it, it wouldn’t have gone away, caught up with them again and there would only be more hurt again. So Adil had to stay strong. And he needed Toby to see it too.

“You have to leave because we love each other? It makes no sense, Adil. I love you. Don’t you love me?”

“I do, Toby. I love you so much. You know I do. But what we have, it isn’t right. Not because we are both men” he added quickly when he saw Toby was about to interrupt, because he already knew what his lover was going to say “but because we depend too much on each other. Both of our lives have reduced to just this relationship. We spend all our free time together and all the remaining time thinking about being together. We barely have any friends left, no interests, no dreams outside of our relationship and that isn’t right. It’s not healthy. Sooner or later it will destroy us. D’Abberville won’t be the last person who will try to use our relationship against us. Or any minute, a bomb can drop on us. It’s not right, that the death of one of us should immediately mean the death of the other.”

“But you can’t live without me either. Or at lest that’s what you said, just two months ago.”

“And do you think it was right of me? Do you think it was right that I would have rather died than to live without you? I was in so much pain, I felt so much guilt that I was ready to kill myself, without even thinking about how I would have pushed all that pain and guilt to you by it. And now you want to do the same to me?” Adil choked as the memory of that night came back to him. He knew that soon he would feel that same pain again. “We have to learn to live for ourselves. Our own lives have to have some worth for us.”

“I don’t want anything from life if I can’t have you” much to Toby’s displeasure he started to see Adil’s point, after all, this wasn’t the first time they had this talk. But as it was probably going to be their last, Toby couldn’t help but be stubborn in repeating his old arguments hoping in vain that he can somehow convince Adil to stay.

However, Adil couldn’t read his mind and only saw that Toby wasn’t willing to understand him. “Well I do” he snapped. “I want to have more in life than to hang onto a relationship where I cannot value myself. Don’t you understand what it is like for me, to be with someone who, according to the whole society, is in every way above me? To know that I’ll never be more than a bartender because someone with my roots, my colour, my background can only amount to anything if I out all my energy to it? But I can’t do that, because I’m unwilling to leave the Halcyon, or out in the extra hours, or do anything to be a thousand times better than the next barman? People like me don’t get many chances in life and moving to America with Joe might be my only one.”

“I don’t want to hold you back. And I don’t want to hurt you. But I really don’t see how am I supposed to be happy without you. Or even how can I go on.”

“You will find a way. You will have to. We both do. I’ll have Joe to help me through the worst and you should talk to Freddie and Emma. They will help you keep going until you find your own way.”

“That is it then? I’ll never see you again?”

“We could write. We could stay friends…” Adil was almost begging. As Toby started to give in, the part of him that wanted to fight for them started to get stronger.

“Friends?” the word seemed to have touched a nerve in Toby. “You want to stay friends? We were never friends, Adil. We were in love, I am in love. I’ll be as long as I’ll live, and I’ll never be able to deny that. I’m offering you all of me, and if you don’t want it, you can leave it all. There is no other way for me. You can have all of me, or you can leave all of me. You were the one who wanted to decide our future alone, now you decide” and with that, Toby stormed out of the little flat.

By the time he returned the next morning, Adil was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was partially inspired by a song, and partially by the realization that these two tend to be dramatic kids, who's story is too much like Romeo and Juliette's (suicide over loosing your lover of a few months while you are still a kid? Not healthy.)


	2. The 1st Letter

London, August of 1941

Dear Joe,

I bet you are surprised to see a letter from me, I’m not among your usual group of London fans. Nevertheless, I hope you are doing well and know that I do make Emma and Sonny tell me all about the exciting news you send them from Chicago.

I hope you didn’t get too excited to see such a long letter from me, because most of it is not for you, and even this short part that is, is about asking a favour.

I wrote a letter to Adil but as I was about to send it, I realized that if I were in his place, I would tear it up without reading and so I’m sending it to you instead and I ask you to give it to him, along with my assurances that it is not what he probably thinks it is. I’m not writing to plead, or threaten, or to say goodbye before a suicide, or to repeat any of the things I said to him in the weeks leading up to your departure. I’m simply writing to apologize, and I hope he will read it.

Forever grateful for your help,  
Toby

P.S.: When I told Emma that I’m sending this letter to you, she asked me to attach hers, so this package has something for you as well, not just the tasks I’m giving to you.

 

***

 

Dear Adil

I don’t know if you’ll even open this letter much less read it carefully, so let me start by highlighting that I’M NOT WRITING TO PLEAD OR FIGHT, ONLY TO APOLOGIZE.

And God, do I have a lot to apologize for.

I’m sorry for all the awful things I told you in the last weeks. I was a perfect ass and I made a situation that was already hard for you so much more difficult. When of course you were, once again, right.

I’m sorry for holding you back. I never really stopped to think about how privileged I am, and even when I did, I blindly thought that if we loved each other hard enough, that would erase the whole world and these differences would disappear. I’m spending a lot of time with Sonny and Betsey (I’m trying not to be alone, like you said) and we talked about this once. Belatedly I’m starting to realize how hard it must have been for you. That pretending that a problem doesn’t exist isn’t the same as trying to solve it, or at least handle it.

I’m sorry for flying off the handle for a second time in as many months and making the last words from me to you be hateful, hurtful words. It makes little difference that I went back the next morning to apologize – it is understandable that you didn’t want to wait around for that.

I’m sorry it took me this long to write this letter. Maybe I should have done this as soon as I realized that you were gone but I think it’s better that I didn’t. It would have been an angry and painful (for the both of us) letter.

I’m sorry that we live in a world that values you so much less than me. I know if I told you this in person, you would say that it’s not my fault, but it sort of is. And I think you know that, you would just be too gallant to admit it. But even if I’m not the one who has built this system, I largely benefit from it, and probably even uphold it without realizing it. But Betsey and I decided to work on it together.

I’m sorry that I’m so selfish that most of all I’m sorry for saying that I wouldn’t want to be friends. I hope you will forgive me for all of the above and for all the other mistakes I’ve made, I know there were many, more than I, or maybe even you, realize just now. I hope we will be able to work them out and become friends.

You opened up my eyes to the word around me and to myself and I would be truly sad if I would lose you forever. Don’t worry, I’m not writing this to you with the hope of making you see what a great catch I am and to make you run back to me (though I would be lying if I said that no part of me wishes that, but the rational part of me understands that ultimately it would be bad for both of us). I just want you to know that your sacrifice wasn’t in vain, that I’m trying to live the life you wanted me to live. I hope you found what you were hoping for in Chicago, or at least you are on your way of finding it.

I’m trying to live a full life, and to be happy. I can’t do it for myself yet, so please let me do it for you. I promise one day I’ll learn to live for myself.

I hope you have read this letter this far and I hope you don’t mind me sending it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to answer. After everything I did, I can’t blame you if you don’t want to be friends.

But if you do, then it would make me really happy if we could write to each other. Not to hold each other back, or stop ourselves from moving on, but because you have forever changed my life and I believe that in some (hopefully good) ways I have also changed yours and it would feel strange if you were in no way part of that new life.

Wishing you all the best,  
Your friend,  
Toby

P.S. I wanted this letter to be an apologetic but ultimately happy one, and reading through it, I think I have accomplished that goal. I have counted, and I have used the word “sorry” and “hope” 7 times each. I’ll chose to see it as a sign that it is a very balanced letter and not the sign of me having to expand my vocabulary.

 

***

 

Adil wiped the tears from his eyes as he scanned through the letter again. He smiled at the realization that Toby was no better with words in writing as he was when speaking. His heart swelled with love as he thought back to Toby’s rambling on that morning almost a year ago.

He wanted to run back to England. To say that their time apart already taught him enough and that now they were ready, but as he kept reading bits and pieces of the letter, he realized that Toby has done much more learning than he did.

He thought that he would have been the one to handle it better, but he began to wonder. Maybe it is easier to accept change when you are powerless to stop it, as Toby has been, whereas Adil always had the option to go back.

But it seemed like Toby was healing and it meant that Adil had to do the same. So, with a deep breath and a realisation that his would mark a point from which there is no turning back, he began to write.

My Dear Friend…


	3. The 2nd Letter

New York, September of 1941

My Dear Friend,  
Thank you so much for your letter, I can’t even begin to express how much it meant to me. Reading it made me realize that I have indeed made the right choice.  
When I have agreed with Joe that I would come to America with him, I made him promise that he would make me go and not let me return, no matter what I said. And it is a good thing I did that. After our fight it wasn’t hard for me to get on the ship the next morning, but by evening, if Joe didn’t hold me back, I might have jumped ship and swam back to you. Since then I often wanted to go back to you. But this Adil you speak of – who seems to be far more sensible than I am – is right. We need to build our own lives, I just never realized how much I needed to make my peace with you before I could start that. Once again it seems like you knew what I needed better than I did. Or maybe you just did what you needed and the two coincided. We were good together for a reason after all. But until the world around us becomes a better place, we could never really work out.  
It wasn’t just your fault though. We both made a lot of mistakes. My biggest probably being that I never talked to you. If I told you about D’Abberville when he first threatened me, or confessed to you what I did before you had to figure I out yourself, or if I told you the pain I felt in the weeks before I left… We might have been able to work them out. I am sorry too. I hope you’ll forgive me. And I hope you know that you are someone worth fighting for. You are worth someone far better than I am. And you will find him. I hope you will introduce me when you do, I promise I’ll be happy for you. I plan to do the same myself, this is why I left after all. So we would both have a chance to find happiness with someone better suited for us.  
But that is enough about the past! Tell me about what you are up to now! How are things in the war office? I already know a lot from Sonny and Emma about the Halcyon’s rebuild, so you can skip that if you like. What are your plans?  
I can’t say I’ve found utter happiness yet, but I enjoy my life here. Joe has got the position he was offered last summer. He hosts a program, where he has guests every night and connected to it there’s also a newspaper column, where he posts a short article about last night’s topics. And guess who is drawing the little illustrations that accompany it! He has taken me on as an assistant and right now I can do the drawings as a part of the job, but Joe says that once I get better, I might have a strip of my own.  
See? I’ve only been in America for a few months and I’ve already taken up bragging and calling people by their first names. Isn’t it strange? I have lived almost my entire life in England, but there I was always an Indian. Now, though I’ve only been here seven months and I’m already an American. I’m not saying that people aren’t racists here, but it is different. Not better or worse, just different. When I walk around the studio in a suit, no one treats me differently. They still say racist things around me, but it is always accompanied by a “present company excluded” or “not you, you are like a white man”. They think it is a compliment. It feels a lot like listening to others talk about gay people. And you can’t defend them, because then they will realize that you’re one of them. So, I sit and listen and we all pretend that I’m white. I do feel guilty, but I’m to afraid to fight just yet.  
I’ve found a nice group of friends from around the studio. Most of us are colored, which is nice. A chance to spend time with people whose life is more like mine. There is one guy there, Marcus, who I think is even more like me. It is among my goals to figure that out.  
Another American habit I picked up. Always have a goal, always improve, always grow. But it’s exciting that now I can dream bigger than becoming a very good servant.  
You will notice that this letter is all over the place. After I wrote the first part I got up to clear my head before moving on to the subject of present and future and then something else came up. Around here something always comes up, there’s never a dull moment. So, I wrote this few pages over the course of almost a week!

With hope, that after such an obnoxiously American letter you still want to be friends,  
Adil

***

Toby very much wanted to still be friends with this new Adil. When he started reading the letter he wanted to fight every single self-depreciating line, but after a first draft response he realized that fighting over whose fault was what wasn’t going to move them forward.  
The second part of the letter amused him to o end, especially a little doodle Adil included about himself writing the letter while doing five more things, one of which was shaking a cocktail mixer. Toby laughed at the thought that of course any assistant of O’Hara had to also be good at serving endless bourbons. He also knew that Adil liked making cocktails, so he was happy to see that he still got a chance to do that.  
Following Adil’s cue, Toby’s reply ignored the past matching his new friend in style. Soon their letters started coming in regular intervals, their conversation flowing almost as smoothly as if they were sitting face to face, their friendship reaching an intimacy that was perhaps greater, though completely different from the intimacy they shared before. Though painful at first, soon the memory of their love gave way to a great friendship and if you asked either of them, they wouldn’t have gone back to the way things were for the entire world.


	4. The 7th Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I've skipped a few letters. From now on, we won't get to read all their correspondence, only a portion of it.  
> The time and location at the top of each chapter refers to the sending of the letter, not to when and where it is being read.

London, November of 1941

 

Dear Adil,

Congratulations! I’m so happy for you, though I can’t say I’m surprised. I didn’t want to say anything before but seeing as in your last letter you filled a full page describing a single conversation you had with the bloke and everything else in it related to him somehow, I wasn’t as clueless about your attraction for him as evidently you were.

But you are wrong. You definitely do deserve someone as gentle and kind as Marcus. You say he knows our story, so give him the benefit of believing if he says he understands. I might have been a clueless idiot who was too wrapped up in his own self-realization to give you the appreciation you deserve, but you deserve a lot. And I’m glad if you found someone who can give you that, I just hope you can accept it. After all, that is why you left. To find a life worth living.

I hope I will get a chance to meet him someday, in the meantime you can be sure that I’ll write Joe to get a more impartial opinion on him, I have to make sure that Marcus is really as deserving of you. You don’t have the best track record with that.

Will you do Christmas together? I hear Americans are going all out on the holidays. It must be nice to be swept up in the spirit.

For us this Christmas is mostly about trying not to remember the events of last December. Instead the only thing we seem to think about is the grand reopening, that will start with the New Year’s Ball. It will be a huge event.

You should see Tom! He is running around the place with his red hair like wildfire, trying to live up to his new position as senior barman. He will be supervised by Emma in the beginning, but you and your expertise are sorely missed by everyone here.

Betsey is nervous. She hasn’t officially performed since the bomb. She says it’s just a coincidence and she is looking forward to performing at the ball, but she has been sneaking away to bars to get herself used to it all. Sonny handles it better. He still can’t walk right after being trapped under the rubble and it looks like he never will. He pretends to not care. He says that the best jazz musicians have some disability. He jokes that he would have preferred becoming blind, but this will do.

There is a lot of pretending going on around here, but I think that if we stopped it and acknowledged that the memory of last December or that there is a war on, we would be crushed by it.

Max and Robbie are preparing a gigantic cake that has bourbon as one ingredient. Tell that to O’Hara, maybe it can tempt him into coming for New Year’s and bring you and Marcus with himself.

I am only half joking, it would be great to see you both. Though to tell you the truth, if you go into the Lounge, Mr. Garland might never let you walk out again…

And if you are worried about accommodations and sneaking around the hallways of the Halcyon, I have a better offer for you: the two of you can come and stay with me! I decided not to move back to the hotel. A little distance from Mother will do me good. I’m staying in the Savoy with her until she moves back in just a few weeks, and then I’m moving to my new place. It is a small flat nearer to the office. It’s nothing grand (Mother is positive that only being homeless could be worse) but it does have a small study that can be used as a guest room, you would be more than welcome to stay there as long as they can spare you in New York.

Gotta run, there’s always lots to do nowadays. I didn’t even have time to make a draft for this letter, so forgive the corrections.

Your friend,

Toby

 

P.S: I wanted to send this letter in time, so you might even have a chance to get here for the New Year’s party, but I forgot to post it and now I’m sure by the time you get it, it will be too late. I just hope that Emma was more successful in inviting O’Hara and that he will have the sense to bring you along.

 

***

 

Adil fidgeted with the letter. He got it just as they were in the last minutes of the preparations before leaving for London and he didn’t want to read it until he was on the plane. He was grateful for the few minutes of distraction it offered. Even between the stoic indifference of his friend and the excitement of his boyfriend he couldn’t suppress his nerves over flying for the first time.

Reading Toby’s letter calmed him somewhat. Adil was worried when he didn’t get an invitation from him, so he was relieved to find out that he was expected.

He was worried that going back to London – and with Marcus no less – would be too much too soon, but Toby’s letter silenced his doubts and after carefully reading it again for any sign of a secret, he happily showed it to his boyfriend.

Once they were in the air and the plane’s moving subsided, Adil sat back contently. Maybe he could indeed be friends with his former lover, maybe not. But in the end what mattered the most was the man sitting beside him that he was falling in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more chapters prepared, but if there is anything you'd like to see in them, let me know in the comments and I'll see if I can work them in.


	5. The 21st Letter

New York, July of 1942

Dear Toby!

You’ll never guess what happened – or maybe you will, you tend to expect these things more than I do – I’ve got my own strip! For now I have to stick to the topic of the day, which means I have to come up with an idea and draw it within a few hours, but I enjoy the challenge.

Dawson says that if I do it for a few months and he finds that people enjoy my take, he will give me more and more liberty in picking the subject.

I'm so excited, because over the last few months he became more open to the emancipation of colored people and women. He isn’t going to make any big speeches anytime soon, but I’m sure he will be open to a few strips that deal with the issue. Thanks to Joe I had things relatively easy and I want to do something for those who aren’t so lucky.

This also means a lot more money since I can easily continue working for Joe, which in turn means that finally I can move out of my shoebox and into a real apartment. We all the – very little – free time we had with Marcus hunting for a place and a few days ago we found the perfect one. It is a two-bedroom not far from the studio in a nice building and luckily for us, the apartment itself is pretty run down, meaning the rent is surprisingly low. We struck n agreement with the owner where we can stay there for the same rent for three years if we agree to fix the place up.

We are moving in at the beginning of next month so by the time you come in October you will be able to stay with us.

We are so looking forward to your visit! Marcus comes up with wilder and crazier plans each day. He is currently obsessed with the idea of us traveling all over the states, which sounds nice but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that. I need to be here every day to hand in my drawings, I can’t really send them over telegram. But maybe if by then I’ll have some leeway with the topic then I can hand in a few at once and then leave for a little vacation. Would you be interested?

I’m so glad that he is so excited that you are coming. To be honest, I was afraid that he wouldn’t understand our friendship. It is one thing to put up with it when we are only writing, but I thought he might be jealous. But no. I’m so lucky to have found someone who trusts me as much as he does. Not that I wouldn’t understand if he was uncomfortable. After all, I don’t really believe in staying friends after a breakup. Even when I said it to you back then I didn’t really think it would happen. It’s just the sort of thing you say trying to make a terrible situation better. But I’m so glad you didn’t think so and you wrote to me. I think we have been through something horrible together and no matter how honest we try to be with others, no one will understand it as much as we do.

Speaking of. I think I understand what you mean when you say you are jealous of us. Or rather envious. (Joe’s obsession with common mistakes in our language is starting to rub off on me.) But I’m sure you will find someone you can share your life with. I wish you all the best on that front as well.

Did you manage reading something from Agatha Christie? Or are you still making up excuses to continue reading only boring and heavy stuff? Joe actually suggested that I you read another writer, Chesterton instead. I haven’t read his books, but he says that Father Brown is a lot like A. C.’s characters but there is more philosophizing so it’s not too light for you. But we are definitely taking you to the theatre when you are here to see one of her films. You have been nagging me for years now about not reading, so now you have to suffer the consequences.

And no, I’m not reading Crime and Punishment in exchange! If you want to get me to read something, find a book that’s under a thousand pages and will not make me want to kill either all of humanity or myself.

I went to an exhibition by Dalí. Do you know him? He paints some… I guess there really isn’t a better word than surreal pictures. They were disturbing and strange, like a nightmare where the more you try to make sense of things, the less they do. But also it was strangely exciting and inebriating in a way. I think I understand in a way what you might like about all your Russian authors. Or maybe you just like to wallow in misery. Anyway. I know I’m sticking to my black and white drawings but it was an interesting experience.

With all the commotion around the new job and the finding of a flat I was already taking too long to answer to your latest letter and now I went and spent another week composing this letter. Well, this is who I am it seems, I’m just incapable of writing it in one go. But I figure you don’t mind, as you still keep responding.

 

Hoping that you don’t forget me by the time this reaches you,

Adil

 

***

 

Toby laughed at the letter. He felt a bit silly about the last letter he sent just a few days ago but he couldn’t help if he worried when he didn’t get anything for over a month. Rationally he knew that things weren’t as grave in America as they were in London and if anything bad happened to Adil the O’Hara or Marcus would let him know.

Maybe Adil was right, he needed to read lighter novels he thought before settling in for a quiet evening reading Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men.


	6. The 36th Letter

London, January of 1943

Dear Adil!

Happy New Year! I hope by now you’ve received my Christmas package and like its contents. But even if you don’t, I’m still convinced that they were the perfect gift.

Mother dragged me with her to Derbyshire for a New Year’s Ball. Lady Mary Cavendish is an old friend of mother’s and their house has been converted into a boarding school before the war to avoid it being used as a hospital but this winter they arranged for a part of it to be returned to the use of the family for a few weeks and they had a large house party. As you can possibly imagine I would have gladly stayed at home, but there were a few good moments, one of which is the main reason I’m telling this story and what ties it to your present.

In one alcove in the library they have a huge collection of Rembrandt’s drafts. They of course have huge paintings as well, mostly displayed in their London house, but I liked these drafts and the accompanying story the most. Apparently the 3rd Earl escaped England during the Civil War and spent his time on the continent where he became a fan of Rembrandt’s work and obtained a bunch of his drafts and smaller works, which then cost nearly nothing, R probably thought the Earl was an odd foreigner crazy for buying worthless doodles. But the Earl really liked them and kept them and then R turned into a famous artist and now these doodles are worth a fortune.

So please do keep sending me those illustrations along with your letters, I keep them carefully in my desk, waiting for the day you become the renowned artist you deserve to be and I can tell everyone about how I supplied you with drawing instruments.

But if you don’t like them, let me know and I can send you better ones. I really know nothing about art so the clerk might have just sold me the most expensive and useless materials and I wouldn’t know.

What I’m sure of is that Marcus will love the chocolate. Since he already expressed his love for Cadbury I know I can’t go wrong with those. Though I can’t really take credit for more than the idea with those, Feldman was the one to obtain them. I believe he is Father Christmas in disguise as he was essential in getting most of the gifts exchanged this Christmas when the rationing is stricter than ever, though I have no doubt they will find ways to increase it even more.

I have to tell you I absolutely loved the illustrations you sent me. No matter how much you insist you are only good with ink, these paintings are simply alive. I can almost feel as if I am inside the story. And the gift is even sweeter since I can see that you have finally relented and read the Hobbit! I know you are not a fan of fantasy novels but rest assured, your sacrifice is appreciated.

I also have some sad news. George and I ended our relationship. It’s nothing tragic. It was perfectly agreeable and sensible, just like our relationship. We talked for hours and we both realized that we had the same reason to be together: we are both rich and intelligent sons of old and noble families and our relationship, had our families found out about it, might even have been tolerated.

Our circumstances were perfect, but we never really felt anything for each other. We agreed to stay friends and I have no reason to doubt that, after all even when we were seeing each other we were more amicable than passionate.

When I started suspecting that he might be homosexual as well, I got lost in a dream of a life with someone like him. I could have told a few friends about him, or even if no one knew, we could have lived together. As younger sons of rich families, people would have thought that this was our way of building our own life away from our parents who would be focusing their attentions and resources on their first sons anyway. They would have thought that we were eccentric but nothing worse, leaving the both of us to pursue our careers while living our true selves at home.

I fell in love with that dream and I thought it meant I was in love with him.

The fact that I don’t care for him hurt more than that he didn’t care for me. I know it sounds pathetic and unfeeling, but maybe you won’t judge me too harshly for it.

Quite often I hear gossips about some aristocrat or another, but aside from George I never knew anyone for sure. And it is not the sort of thing you can ask about. And now I’m no longer even sure if I should. George showed me I shouldn’t be with someone because it is sensible. Then I might as well take an extra step and get married.

I have half a mind to do it, after all even before I knew I was interested in men instead, I knew I probably wouldn’t marry out of love. Most people in our class don’t.

I’m sorry this letter ended rather glumly. I rewrote this letter a dozen times wondering whether to begin or end with the happy chatter but in the end I felt that it would feel forced after such an admission. Now that I’m writing this I realize that after all this it is even more forced, so in my last rewrite I copied the wording from my first draft, when I was still under the influence of those experiences and not overthinking every word.

I send my love to Marcus (not to Joe, Emma sent him a holiday package with well-wishes from many of us here and I already sent him my greetings in that letter) and of course to you,

Your most _Honourable_ friend,

Toby

 

***

 

Adil’s heart clenched at Toby’s confession. He admired Toby’s bravery (and maybe recklessness) with which he was prepared to turn his back on the life he grew up with to follow his heart for the sake of someone who was considered to be so far below him as Adil was.

But Adil also knew that Toby was all too willing to believe what his father told him to his face and the world whispered behind his back, that he was week and a coward, who wouldn’t fight for his country and it was only reinforced in him after that wretched business with D’Abberville.

Could it be, that in the end this seemingly inconsequential liaison with George would end up crushing Toby’s hopes enough to, coupled with his doubts about his own strength, push him back to hiding and into a marriage?

For the first time, Adil seriously questioned whether he did the right thing by making Toby face his own sexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry?
> 
> I'm about halfway through this story. I am always looking for random topics for these letters (as it is an ongoing conversation between them, as well as accounts of their regular lives) so if you want to read their thoughts on any topic or event, let me know in the comments!


	7. Interlude

London, August of 1943

 

“I wonder if there’s anything I could say to convince you to ask me to a dance” the Honourable Miss Eleanor Kingsley’s voice was filled with laughter. Toby contemplated her for a moment over the rim of his glass of champagne.

She was modestly dressed, her only jewellery a simple hairpiece holding back her short hair and a small silver cross on a thing chain around her neck. She was wearing a dark blue gown with discrete patterns and without any lace or ribbons. She smelled of lavender, but it was so faint Toby could only feel it when she leaned in closely to whisper witty comments about the other guests at the party.

Miss Eleanor was unlike any of the other girls his mother tried to set him up with, then again, this time it was Toby himself who initiated the acquaintance a few days ago, when they run into each other in the engineering section of the London Library, where –  upon discovering that they were both attending the same event later that week – Toby surprised himself by asking her if he would have liked to attend together.

And though in the days between the two meetings Toby berated himself for asking her, he had to admit that his companion was pleasant to talk with, and he might have gone as far as to say she made this party the best one he had attended in years. As long as he avoided thinking about the expectations it would no doubt awaken in her, he would even look forward to spending more time with Eleanor. And wasn’t that the best he could hope for if he wanted to avoid a lonely life?

With that realization he emptied his glass and smiled at Eleanor. “I think you just did” and with that he led her to the floor. Luckily the next few songs were neither too complicated, nor too slow, meaning they didn’t have to stand uncomfortably close, and they didn’t step on each other’s feet more than a total of three times before they returned to their table.

Once there, Eleanor excused herself and as soon as she left to refresh herself, Lady Hamilton took her seat.

“She looks like a charming young girl, even if a little dull and simple” Lady Hamilton said in a bored voice, meant to disguise her excitement over seeing her son dance.

“She is neither dull, or simple. We are having great fun together and the fact that her entire outfit probably costs less than the pair of gloves you are wearing makes me enjoy her company even more as I don’t have to constantly worry about ruining an irreplaceable and priceless item whenever I stand too close” Toby snapped.

“Of course Eleanor is not as… accomplished as I’d wish for you, but I am glad to see you with a girl” Lady Hamilton continued.

“You and I have very different understandings of the word ‘accomplished’ it seems” Toby murmured while he contemplated proposing to Eleanor then and there just to spite his mother. That wasn’t the worst reason he had, he supposed.

“Of course darling the only thing that matters is that you are happy.” Lady Hamilton said that quite often since the Halcyon was destroyed in 1940, an event that brought out some long-lost maternal instincts form her. Not for the first time Toby wondered what she would say if he admitted that he could only be really happy with a man. But since she would have most likely still would have expected him to marry and have children, it didn’t seem to worth the trouble.

Before Toby could have done anything foolish, Eleanor returned to the table. She and Lady Hamilton were introduced and exchanged a few pleasantries – leaving Toby in awe of Miss Eleanor’s seemingly endless skills which apparently included mindless socializing – then Lady Hamilton left them to themselves.

After another hour of lively discussion on the benefits of a fourth engine for the Tower Bridge, Eleanor asked Toby to drive her home for the night. The ride brought the welcome discovery that not only could Eleanor drive but also enjoyed it and resulted in an agreement that she would be the one driving on any future outing of theirs.

Even despite the quality of the company, Toby’s energies started depleting dangerously by the time they pulled up to the Kingsley House. He still got out to open the car’s door for Eleanor and walk her to her gate. As he was reaching for the bell to get the butler, Eleanor stopped him.

“Toby, wait.”

Toby froze with his arm in the air. He had a good night and he was halfway through convincing himself to just give his dreams up and settle down with the woman in front of him, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for a goodnight kiss.

“Yes?” he asked, letting his arm drop and taking a step backwards.

“I had a great time tonight” Eleanor started. “But there is one thing I wanted to know, and it is not in my nature to be coy, so I’ll just go ahead and ask.”

“I also had a great time but I am rather tired and I think I’m starting a headache, so if you wouldn’t mind terribly, I’ll just go now, but we should meet for tea sometime next week. Ring me when it suits you” the last words were barely audible he uttered them so fast, ready to run away at the last syllable, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“It’s not what you think” she promised, the conviction in her voice managing to calm some of Toby’s nerves. “The fact is, I am a 25-year-old, unmarried second daughter of a practically broke man, who only has his title left and whatever little else he has is going to my nephew. I am old, poor and opinionated, at least compared to most bachelor’s ideas. I have no great expectations of earthshattering romance, I just want a comfortable life with a man I can respect and who can respect me in return. But, even though you were great tonight, I still feel that you have even less emotional desire to our union. It would be practical, no doubt, but if we continue seeing each other, I want us to be honest with each other and ourselves.”

Toby just stared at Eleanor he was just about to accept her offer but she continued talking.

“I wouldn’t even mind if you took lovers. I suspect I wouldn’t have to worry about any lovechild from them. Think about it and meet me for tea on Thursday at the Ritz if you still want to. Good night, Toby” and with that, she pushed the gate open and went inside, leaving Toby rooted on the pavement.

After driving his car back home, he went for a walk, only returning to his flat when the sun was already up. He had a lot to think trough.

But even though he desperately longed for someone to talk to, he didn’t write to Adil about Eleanor at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little hiatus, though I hope you enjoyed the works I posted in the meantime.  
> Also sorry-not-sorry for the way this chapter goes, I had some ideas about the outline of this fic but then it sort of ran away from me and here we are and I have no idea where this will end :D But f you want to blame anybody, blame inner_tempest, her comment on the last chapter is partially the reason this chapter turned out like it did ;)


	8. The 58th Letter

Washington, February of 1944

 

Dear Toby,

Thank you for sharing all that with me, and of course I don’t think you are wrong for it, even if I don’t think it is the best thing for you.

For people like us, it is not easy to date and establish a lasing relationship. It is dangerous to admit our preferences in many circles unless we can be sure of the other person (for example it would be the most foolish thing to kiss your boss that you barely even talked to before) and in places where we can know that we will be accepted, most people are not there looking for happily ever after. So in a way I understand why you gave up on trying to find love and why you contend with casual sexual acquaintances.

But I worry about you. For a long time now you seemed to have given up on love. A year ago you were contemplating finding a bride and living a “normal” life, hiding your true self. Now you say you want to spend your entire life without a partner by your side.

But I can’t imagine you being happy like that. Sometimes when you go through one of your phases, you need someone to pull you back to the land of the living. And friends (however good friends they are) that have their own lives can’t always be there. I even wonder if maybe you could find a nice girl who would also appreciate the pretence of a marriage without the romantic parts and who could be your life-partner but le you live your truth. But that would probably not make you happy either.

It might sound hopeless then, as if you are out of options, but I’m sure that you will find someone right for you. You are young, you have time.

You ask as if my opinion mattered, so let me make this clear again: I do not think less of you for your current choice of partners, and maybe doing it for a while could even be good for you. You could gain confidence and you don’t have a new person to worry about in this wretched war. And maybe if you aren’t trying so hard to find a long-term partner, it will just happen naturally and sooner.

I trust you will let me know when that happens so I can fly over and make sure that you are treated right!

 

You might have noticed, that this letter is sent from Washington. It is not an ordinary holiday that I’m having here, I have exciting news! Well, they aren’t exactly my news but I get to tell you: Joe got a job as a reporter on the television. He just moved to Washington, he will be working from here. The current job is for the duration of the war, but everyone seems positive that once the people see our charming friend on the silver screen, they will keep wanting more of him and this temporary position will turn into a permanent one.

Marcus and I came with him to help him settle in and to see the sights in the capital. Marcus is beside himself. He spends most of his time visiting different colored communities, trying to see what endeavors are taken to improve the lives of minorities. You know that he has gotten more political recently and he seems to be in paradise. I myself days in the Smithsonian Museum. It is crazy how the whole history of a country can be fitted into a single building – well, maybe less crazy if you consider that the country in question isn’t even 200 years old and they pay little to no attention to the peoples that lived here before that. And there are other, smaller, more intimate, museums that show those neglected cultures as well. There are so many museums here, that the one month we are spending here will never be enough to see them. I will just have to keep visiting Joe until he gets so fed up with me he will ban me from the city.

Oh, I almost forgot! The paperwork came through and the flat is finally truly ours. I know I already spoke of it as a done deal in my last letter, but now all the final legal touches are done. I thought there would be no great difference, we have lived there for two years but it feels so different now that my name is on the papers. I have never owned much and now I have a home!

My parents were so proud that I became the first person to own real estate as if I had bought the White House. They insisted in sending me most of their savings to contribute to the purchase. I didn’t need it, but I had a feeling they did. I just hope I can find a way to pay them back for everything they ever did for me.

But for now, I am truly living the American Dream! I have a great job, a nice home, a loving partner, a number of friends and every now and then a nice vacation like the current one. I know the whole concept of the American dream is not all it is cracked up to be. I only managed it because I had influential friend but I feel I have also done a lot of hard work and I am deserving of the things I have now – how very American of me.

One more thing: We are spending the weekend in a little hotel room with Marcus in celebration of Valentines Day and I am going to ask him if he would consider exchanging some sort of wows. I have been thinking about it for a while but I didn’t know if I could tell you before I asked him about it. We never talked about anything like this. I think we both want to stay together for life, but we never actually said it, much less that we should make it as official as it can be between two men.

Please don’t tell anyone about this, most of all not to Emma or Joe. I’ll let you know of the outcome in my next letter!

I have to dash now if I want to post this letter before the weekend.

Take care, be happy and good luck,

Adil

 

***

 

Toby’s head was swirling by the time he finished the letter. It was a great relief for him that Adil didn’t disapprove of his choices in partners but he was terrified how well Adil guessed the plans he made and hid so carefully before abandoning them a few months ago about a potential cover marriage.

He laughed at Adil’s excitement over Washington but his heart clenched in jealousy over the growing, almost perfect relationship between Marcus and Adil. The jealousy was – of course – only over the fact that they found a type of love that seemed so unreachable for Toby and nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are the highlights of my days :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr as SzonKlin.


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